


vrăjitoare bune, vrăjitoare rele

by Dustybaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Case Fic, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:44:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dustybaby/pseuds/Dustybaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working with the Winchester is a complicated thing but when you are a little 'witchy' makes it even more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vrăjitoare bune, vrăjitoare rele

**Author's Note:**

> I have been away with writers block- this is my first attempt back.

I stirred from sleep to find the left side of the bed empty. My head felt like it was filled with water that sloshed around until my eyes finally focused. The clock beside me read 4:34. I kicked the covers back with heavy legs and lazily threw them over the edge. I had to will myself out of the bed.  
I shuffled down the hall and passed the room marked 11. A second of debate what to do before I reached for the doorknob and eased the door open. Inside the dark room, the outline of a figure with the blankets wrapped wildly around long legs and the faintest sound of a snore filled the room.  
I made my way through the stone and marble maze before I was in the large hall. The bunker was silent aside from the sounds of the air conditioner pushing cool streams of air through the vents with a soft whooshing sound. Low yellow lights spilled over the floor before I had even fully entered. The long table was filled with several books, all of which were sitting open.  
I let a deep sigh before I moved in with quiet steps. I put pieces of blank lined paper into each book then closed them. I neatly stacked each book then shut off each lamp. Sam never stirred still snoozing on an ancient book with a pen fallen on the paper next to him.  
“Sammy.” I whispered into his ear as I brushed the hair behind his ear. I pressed a kiss him to his cheek. He mumbled something as he lifted his head. His eyes fluttered and he gave me a soft smile.  
“What time is it?” he whispered then yawned.  
“Almost five.” I replied with a soft smile. I leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, something I hardly ever had the chance to do. I ran my fingers in his hair then wrapped arms around him.  
“I don't remember when I fell asleep.” he replied quietly as he tilted his head up to me.  
“I know. Let's go to bed for a few hours.” I stroked his hair.  
He nodded before sighing. He slowly rose to his feet, lumbering over me. I took his hand and carefully led him to bed. The halls seemed to go on forever until we reached his room.  
Sam collapsed into the bed with his feet hanging over the edge as his head hit the pillow. I laid beside him and tried to settle back into sleep but my mind was working against me. I went through the upcoming day. The impending hunt that could take a day or a week. I thought about facing another monster with blood lust. I know Dean wanted to be on the road by 10 but I couldn't pull myself from the constant worry that would follow me around like my shadow. I did my best to hush my thoughts and keep my eyes closed until Sam rolled. His long leg draping over mine and a heavy arm dropping across my chest. The weight and his warm breath acting as anchors to pull me into sleep.  
This time when I woke, the bunker was humming with life. Deans loud voice filled the hall as the sound of dishes clanging and cupboards closing with a familiar squeak. I turned my head to see 8:07 on the clock and knew I would have to hurry to get prepared.  
I was up and showered in a flash before throwing clothes and weapons into bags. Then packing clothing for Sam as well as anything else we had forgotten on other hunts including pieces from a hoodoo kits given to me by a conjure woman in Memphis. I scurried to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee and toast.  
“Cutting it close there.” Dean commented as I pulled things from the fridge, “mayne spoiling my brother with breakfast every morning wasn't the best idea?”  
“Why do you care? You get food out of it too?” I asked with a smile.  
“Just saying. He's a grown man.” he replied.  
“You've tasted his cooking.” I pointed out.  
“Fair enough.” Dean laughed as I began making breakfast before Sam would emerge from the shower after his long run.

It wasn’t a long drive. We were in Ohio in a few hours. The hotel we booked into was cheap with tacky tropical wallpaper and Dusty fake palm trees. The boys changed into suits while I changed into scrubs.  
“Once I am done at the morgue, I will meet with you at the diner just up the street.” I said to them first looking at Dean who nodded then Sam who was straightening his tie.  
“Be careful. If it's a witch, then it's a powerful one and they are pretty pissed off.” Dean said with that tone in his voice that was meant to sound authoritarian but I knew he was concerned.  
“Text me when you get done, please.” Sam said softly.  
“Of course.” I said softly before hugging him. He kissed the top of my head and stroked my back with his fingers. I took the smell of him in and let go. Parting ways to work on a strange case of dead bodies, human and animal with parts missing and all of which have black stains on the hands or feet.  
I stole a car in an unsecured lot. Something simple and nondescript to get to the medical examiner's office. Using a fake badge with good credentials, it didn't take long to get passed the front entrance.  
Rows of refrigerated storage buzzed with the remains of long dead humans. I moved past them quickly trying not to think about Sam or Dean and the real possibility of them winding up in a cold metal box.  
I met the chief medical examiner in the hall, Dr. Elisa Kahler. She was an average looking woman silver wire framed glasses perched on her nose. The deep blue scrubs made her eyes sparkle and give her an enthusiastic appearance. She smiled at me and nodded. I introduced myself as a liaison to the FBI.  
“What's the FBI doing investigation these deaths?” she asked with a curious smile.  
“ Honestly, we are covering our bases. Making sure this isn't an act of terrorism or some weird cult trying to act up.” I said following her into the examination room.  
“I am just about to go over the last victim. Care to join?” she asked handing me a hair net. I nodded and quickly slipped it on.  
We stood over the body of a white man. Blond hair with a sharp jaw and pale full lips. He was in good shape but his hands were stained black.  
As she cut into the body, I caught her glancing up at me. I maintain composure and watched her precise cuts into the skin of the dead man.  
“It seems that our victim is missing his spleen and gallbladder.” she said as her hand pulled out organs to transplant them to a scale.  
“His gallbladder? I know there is a black market for that but not for a human's.” I said writing down the information.  
“The strangest part is the stained hands. In everyone of our victims, it's not just the outer epidermis. The stain is in the muscles and fat all the way to the bone.” she said puzzled. She picked up the man's hand and turned it to face me. She used her scalpel to slice the side if his hand open to expose the jet black muscles under the skin.  
“And the tissues is normal other than the stain?” i asked.  
“Yes. Every victim is in good shape. No medical problems nothing.”  
I nodded.  
“Whatever this is. It isn't an infection. I just don't know.” she said  
“Can I get your copies of the cases?” I asked.  
“My assistant, Marcelo can pull then for you.” she said nodding towards the door.  
“Thank you for letting me have a look.” I said sincerely.  
Before leaving, Marcelo made copies of each file. His cold eyes examined me as he handed the files over then turned his back to me as if I had insulted him. I thanked him but received no reply.  
As I left the office with my files, I pulled my phone and sent a message to Sam. I pulled out of the lot and made my way towards the diner. Picking a spot out of the view of the public and CCTV cameras, i ditched the car and wiped it down.  
I sat at a table near the back. Sipping coffee, I pulled the files and began reading as I waited. It didn't take long for the Winchesters to show up. The looked the part of a Federal agent, each dressed in sharp suits and ties.  
“Did you find anything?” I asked before greeting them.  
“What about you?” Dean threw back as he sat down  
“I have a list of parts missing. And the stain.” I said before pausing to push a file to Sam, “it's not a usual skin stain.”  
“To the bone?” Sam asked.  
“Yeah. This is some serious and heavy duty black magic.” Dean said quietly as the waitress came to take our orders.  
“We have one grainy piece of footage of someone fleeing the last victims dump site.” Dean said with a frustrated scowl.  
“It's a lead.” Sam retorted.  
“What I don't get is the items on the bodies.” Dean said, “Three ancient coins, a crystal and a dried up bundle of weeds.”  
“Coins are for the ferryman. Crystal it's for protection or amplification. The weeds?” Sam said without looking up.  
“We need to id the plant.” i said feeling the wheels turning.  
The table fell silent at the food arrived. Each plate was finished quickly as we all could feel how uneasy each of us were. Magic this strong is dangerous and volatile who knew how long before it escalated and took out another person.  
At the motel, we spent hours combing over each detail. Dean combed over every traffic camera or atm he could access for just a glimpse of our attacker. Sam took the task of trying to find the spell or counterspell. I took the task of identifying the bushel of weeds on each victim.  
A gloved hand pulled the pieces apart and laid them out on a hotel towel. I examined buds and stems. Then i scoured books and the internet to find each one.  
Intermittent breaks were taken between beer runs and bathroom breaks there was nothing it the faint murmurs of the television, clicking of keys and pages from old books turning.  
“I think i know what our weeds are.” I said softly. My voice seemed like a shout compared to the quietness of its surroundings.  
Sam looked over with a weary smile. Dean didn't look up, too focused on what he was doing.  
Each plant alone are very powerful but when grouped together it is a deadly mix.” I said looking at Sam's face, “ We have Knotweed to get rid of one's enemy. Balmony for hexing. Willow, vervain and yarrow for conjuring or communicating with the devil or dark spirits, and Valerian root for conjuring dark forces to act upon your will.”  
“So this is one angry witch.” Dean said without hesitation.  
“Yeah.”  
“I wonder if the animals were just a test run… to see if the spell would work?” Sam asked as he glanced from me then looking to his brother. He picked up his beer and took the last long drag from it, it would be bedtime soon.  
“Makes sense. If they can kill the animal then killing a person is nothing.” I said rubbing my eyes.  
“True.” Dean said before yawning.  
I glanced at the clock. 3:04.  
I gathered up the roots and placed them in a plastic sack. I didn't want this in our room, something in my gut told me that it could be toxic if we kept it with us. I placed the bag outside our door and left it there.  
Deciding on sleep, I went straight for the bathroom and washed my face. I stripped out of my clothing and crawled into the bed. Both brothers took my nonverbal clue as a sign to pack it in for the night. Sam quickly crawled into the bed and pulled me in close to him.  
Dean turned the TV volume off and shut the lights off. I listened to him groan as a stretched out. The sounds of Sam's breath evening out and finding the steady rhythm put me at ease.  
Sleep came easy but the dreams were disturbing. Violent screams and the smell of blood clogged my nose. I watched as the shape of a man was contorted into curves and shape that were inhuman. The words clear as a bell in my head, “Et oblitus . Et ante omnia nihil erit.”  
I was rocked from with Sam's voice calling me back. My eyes opened to see bright eyes and shaggy hair over me.  
“There's been another death.” Sam said with a rushed voice.  
“What time is it?” I rubbed my eyes and groaned out.  
“7:45.”  
“Jesus H. Alright give me five and I'll be ready.” I crawled from the lumpy bed and began to dress in a hurry.  
The scene was brutal. The body had been drained of blood. Hands were stained a jet black and the eyes were milky white. My guts churned as I slowly moved through the small home. There was a smell in the home that reminded me of burned matches and dust.  
“Victim is Aaron Berlinger, 31.” A police officer said as I stepped back into the main room, “Neighbors called after they heard an argument and saw a person fleeing.”  
“Where did they say the suspect was headed?” I asked. Dean gave me a look and frowned.  
“Northbound.”  
Nodding I stepped outside, I found myself wandering north looking for anything. A small clue to our witch. The motive. Anything.  
As I reached the intersection, I stopped and looked all directions but found my body wanting to go East. I walked along the street and stopped in front of a small yellow and green house. The window glowed a warm light deep from within. Plants were overtaking the sides of the porch, reminding me of a fairy tale.  
Something about this place made my chest feel heavy. I stood and stared for a long moment, unsure of the next move to take. But before I could decide, I found myself standing at the door with my finger on the doorbell.  
A shape filled with large window then disappeared. The door opened to reveal a man, in this early thirties with long shaggy hair and a heart shaped face with a chin covered in scuff. He was attractive but something behind his eyes was deadly. His scowl turned into a smile but it was a mask.  
“Hello! I'm Agent Barnes with the FBI. There was an incident earlier this evening and I was wondering if you had seen anything strange?” I asked, feeling my throat tighten towards the end of my sentence.  
“Uh, no. I just came home from work,” he said as his eyes darted from side to side. His hand gripped the door and I could feel my heart clenching.  
“Okay. If you think of anything… here’s is my card.” I said digging into my jacket and pulling out the phony white card before passing it over to him, “Give me a call.”  
He nodded and gave me a look that made my insides turn to ice. His blue eyes seemed to bore through me as his smile slowly turned into a scowl. Inside, I was screaming that there was something off and I needed to get away from here. I backed from the house.  
Standing on the curb, I watched as the house glowed a greenish yellow then returned to normal. The Impala growled as she approached at a low speed. I kept an eye on the house feeling uneasy as the seconds passed.  
“Why the hell are you up here?”Dean growled at me as they approached slowly.  
“I followed the way the suspect headed. Then something told me to head here.” I said softly.  
“Oh. Let me guess, you were pulled by the spirits…” Dean replied with a dry tone.  
“Yeah. That house is off. We need to get in there. Follow him. Something.” I said looking at Sam for comfort.  
“It's more than we got, Dean.” Sam said with a firm voice, “Her instinct has always been spot on.”  
“It feels more the witchcraft.” Dean mumbled.  
Sadly, he wasn't far from the truth. My instincts had come from meddling with light and dark magic. It made me sensitive but it also put a target on my back. Not to mention, I was toeing the door to the ‘dark side’ each time I tried anything.  
“Whatever. We'll go back later. Track his movements. Maybe talk to the neighbors.” Dean said as he turned the car to the left and headed for the police station.  
Inside the safety of the police department, we spent hours combing over the newest victim’s life. He was a normal guy with no real enemies. I broke away and began to look into the strange house and its owner.  
Christopher Beck owned the property. He was born in 1936. The alarm bells were firing loudly in my head. He was no older than thirty five. There was no way he could be in his 80s. I clicked around online, looking at birth records and anything else I could to see if there was any way it could be a grandson or relative.  
“Ss… Agent Banner.” I said feeling the words tangling in my mouth as I stared Sam down. Sam nodded then excused himself.  
“Look at this.” I hissed and jabbed the screen.  
“1936. But you said he was our age.” Sam said looking at me.  
“He is. Was. But I did more digging and he was never married. He's an only child but the final piece was an old article about the TWS paint factory he worked at. He saved his colleagues during a fire by evacuating them through a window he broke out.” I said pulling the image up. The grainy black and white was of the same man at the door. The wicked smile with stormy eyes.  
“Agent Barton. A moment.” Sam said sounding authoritative.  
After examining all of it, Dean agreed that we needed to look closer. It felt good even with Dean's side eye knowing that my gut was right. We left the department and headed back to our motel. From FBI formal to hunters then back on the street in minutes.  
We waited down the block from the place for any kind of activity. I sat in the back listening to the Winchesters bicker and talk. I felt a gnawing in the back of my head before my fingers began to numb. I had a book in my lap, all the spells and incantations I had used or picked up over the years. I had something to draw him out, I knew it but I had to find it.  
“He's on the move.” Dean said as he straightened up.  
“Let me out. I want to look in his place.” I blurted. I pulled the handle and slipped out.  
“Not alone!” Dean snapped.  
“I'll go.” Sam said following me, “Be careful.”  
“You too.” Dean replied with a nod.  
I rushed to the house as Dean took off. Sam trailed behind me quietly as I made my way to the back of the property through the overgrown bushes and grass. A rusted fence groaned as I jumped it and pushed into the back yard. The door had symbols carved into the wood and devil's shoe string hung around the frame. I crawled up the stairs then pulled a pocket knife from my jeans. I scratched an x shape into the protection rune of a scrawling cross with swirls and flourishes. Sam stood behind me and watched as I picked the lock.  
I pushed the door open and waited. I stepped back which forced Sam back. A whoosh of dark toned dust poured out.  
“Hot foot powder.” I said softly. Sam nodded then followed as I side stepped the blackened trail left from opening the door.  
Inside the place seemed normal, there was a cup of coffee still steaming on the counter. The television was on but the house was otherwise still. I crept slowly into the next room, finding a bedroom then an office.  
In the office was a lot of paperwork and bills. A small handgun was tucked into a drawer near the Macbook that sat open, the cooling fan whirring as it remained idol. A photo of Christopher with a beautiful brunette and a tall blonde man sat at the edge. It was in black and white, the image had aged appropriately but you could see their faces beaming with wide eyed excitement.  
My heart sank at the random thought of breaking into an civilian's home because of some wacky spider sense nonsense. I dropped my head and pulled myself together. I knew something was off, I just didn't know what.  
“Here.” Sam's voice called out from below me.  
I stepped out of the office to see Christopher standing in the hall. His face glowering at me. My defense mode kicked in and I clenched my fist. He moved at me quickly, swinging with a strong right hook then a left. Both connected with my sides, instinctively I threw a punch into his chest then another into his jaw. We threw punches and landed each hit but neither tired. I knew I was trapped and Sam wasn't coming. My heart started to race as my mind sharpened. Before I could work my exit out, he backhanded me and rocked me into the door frame. My head clipped the edge and threw me down.  
He came at me with fists clenched. He kicked me in the side and took the wind from my chest. I kicked him back in the chest then the groin but it didn't stop him. Instead he grinned at me maniacally, a knee dropped into my chest then his left hand gripped my throat.  
“An non facias. Testor deorum praesidio…” I croaked out as my air ran out and tears ran down my face.  
He reached above us and pulled something from above us. My eyes watered as they tried to focus on the item. Small and cream colored in a vial.  
With his teeth he ripped the cork out and sat it on the ground.  
“Vrăjitoare. Te elimin dacă puterea. Elimin vederea și memoria. Așa să fie.” he muttered as he poured the vial on my face and into my mouth as I gasped for air. My vision was beginning to blur as the veins in my temples pounded like drums. I gripped his wrist as hard as I could. My face felt hot but my lips were cold.  
I didn't want to die this way. I wanted to do more with my life. Maybe have a family, maybe with Sam. I thought about our first meeting. Our first kiss but soon the thoughts were drowned out by pounding darkness that swallowed me whole as I closed my eyes.  
I awoke to shouting. Two men were scrambling around me. My head was being lifted and I was having my clothing stripped from my body. I felt a cold compress touch my face and fingers push into my wrist. The words began to clear from the clouded underwater murmuring as I struggled to open my eyes.  
“This is your fault! We should have gone in together!” A loud growl came from the right.  
“Dean, she isn’t some precious flower. I have seen her take your ass out in a fight before.” A sharper tone snapped back.  
“Did you kill the son of a bitch!?” The other voice shouted.  
“No! I had to get her out. He was going to kill her.”  
“Damn it Sam!”  
My eyes snapped open and I shot upright. My eyes wildly scanned the room, the two men stood stone still with terror on their faces. The tall one clenched the towel in his hands and the shorter one turned to face me.  
“Hey.” The shorter one said with a trace of unease behind his voice.  
I could taste the cloying fear in the air and saw the current of anxiety between the two men flashing an electric orange. My instinct told me to run as I scanned the room, weapons and maps littered the cheap motel. I scanned my body, my shirt was covered in blood and I didn't have shoes on. My guts were in a knot and my throat burned with a deep pain that went far beyond anything I had felt before.  
I tried to think of where I was…my head was cluttered filled with static and bats.  
“It's okay. We’re back at the motel.” The tall one spoke with a gentle voice as his face softened. He dropped his towel on the chair and turned to face me completely. His shirt had blood on it.  
“You scared us for a minute, kid.” The short one replied with a gruff voice.  
“Let me go.” I growled out with a weak scratchy voice.  
“Go where?” The two men asked with equally confused faces. The tall one moved closer with open hands. I crawled back on the bed and drew my knees up. My eyes were fixed on the three somewhat large knives on the table across from me.  
“Don’t hurt me.” I said feigning extreme terror. The sound was pathetic enough that I would have been convinced I was an injured doe who needed saving.  
“Babe, it’s me… It’s Sam. I- I won’t hurt you.” The tall one, Sam said with a tenderness that was genuine. He inched closer to me. As he came closer, I knew he was in striking distance, I kicked him in the chest and sprang from the bed. My blood was pulsing in my veins pushing me to escape.  
The little stocky one dove for me but missed me by inches. I yanked a knife from the table, slicing my hand in the process before darting out of the dingy hotel room and out into the streets. I didn't exactly know where I was going or frankly where I was but my body had a feeling of where I needed to be.  
I heard the two men behind me clamoring to find me. I ducked into side street and up alleyways. I was winding my way through the dark streets looking for a beacon. Something to point me in the right direction. I stopped in a park, the street lamps had shut off and left nothing but the moonlight as a guide, I doubled over to catch my breath. I looked up to see a silver white streak at the far end of the park.  
I took off running at full speed towards what I had seen. Long strides made it feel like I wasn’t touching the ground, I jumped over benches and tables like they were nothing. I shot out of the park and dodged an oncoming car. I ran down a street with cars lining the road until my body was stopped by an invisible force. I turned to face a familiar house with a familiar man standing on the porch wearing a long smile.  
“Knew you’d be back, little witch.”  
I wanted to reply with a smartassed remark but I was panting so hard, I couldn’t. I looked up at him and slowly approached. My hand went up and rested on top of my head as air filled my lungs. He made his way to the stop of the stair and smiled down at me.  
“I honestly thought the hunters would have tried to kill me by now.” He said as I climbed the stone steps.  
“Hunters?” I finally spoke with a ragged breath.  
“Shit, I forgot.” He winced and grinned at me, “Yeah, you’re probably really confused.”  
He ushered me into his home with his arm around me. The door closed behind us, a sense of terror filled me but I dismissed it quickly. We stopped in his kitchen, he had two cups out and waiting with a small bowl of sugar and milk. I sat in a chair and watched him, he glowed green with a faint trace of grey around his edges.  
“I can see colors.” I said looking his direction, his back tensed as slowly turned to face me.  
“Do you know what you are?” He asked with a playful curiosity. I took a moment to think, my memories were a mixture of images and feelings. I could smell fire and taste blood. I blinked a few times and was back there, in a small clean kitchen that belonged to a man I did not know but something drew me to him.  
“No. I don't know anything. My name. What city I am in, nothing.”  
“That will wear off over time. Slowly of course. But before you go back, I want to share something with you.” he said placing his cup to his smooth lips and taking a slow sip “Now listen here little witch, I mean you no more harm.”  
“Stop calling me that. I'm not a witch.” I snapped clenching the handle of the coffee cup.  
“You are. Maybe not a great and powerful witch but you are one. Probably a kitchen witch.” he chuckled then leaned in, “I can teach you the harder dark stuff.”  
I winced and shook my head no. The idea of dark magic made my insides clench and twist. My eyes dropped to the table.  
“That's okay, little witch.” he reached out and touched my hands.  
I returned his touch with a look of annoyance.  
We sat in his kitchen for a long time, I listened to him tell me about himself. About the murders and why he did them. Then he began telling me the history of witches and gave me a message for the men I had ran from.  
“I will drive you or did you want to walk?” he asked with a gentle smile.  
“A ride would be nice.” I said calmly.


End file.
